In Your Dreams
by marpuri
Summary: Legend says if you can't sleep at night, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream. What if Kate never got sick and Ana and Christian met only once, briefly at her graduation but retain a connection to one another in their dreams... AU/What-if, Canon characters.


**A/N - I know, I know... I should really be updating my other two stories, but I became really excited about this story idea and just had to see it through. Updates on the other two are coming, I promise.**

**I can be found on Facebook (marpuri fanfic) and Twitter (also marpurifanfic) if you want to check in. Oh, I'm on Pinterest too (you guessed it: marpurifanfic).**

**Speaking of Pinterest, my inspiration for this story was this quote I found there: "Legend says if you can't sleep at night, it's because you're awake in someone else's dream."**

**What if Kate never got sick and Ana and Christian met only once, briefly at her graduation but retain a connection to one another in their dreams...**

**Please read and review. I'd love to know what you think of it! - C.**

* * *

_Graduation..._

The lineup of homogenous faces drifted past Christian on stage. Handshake. Diploma. Congratulations. Repeat. The mind-numbing monotony of it all set his teeth on edge. He couldn't wait to blow off steam in the playroom upon his return to Seattle. "Rockport... Siu... Smythe...Stark..." They were nearing the end of the alphabet, thankfully. Some mingling to endure at the post-ceremony reception, then he'd be free.

At that moment, the crowd gasped as a slender brunette stumbled and fell rather ungracefully into his arms. Blushing furiously, she righted herself and stammered an apology, biting her lip in embarrassment. Christian paused for a moment, taking in her long brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He mused that under different circumstances, she'd be just his type.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She brushed off the chancellor and concerned others who were rushing to her aid. "No, really, I'm fine." Still visibly rattled, she took a breath, lifted her chin and accepted her diploma and handshake from the stunning man before her. Mortified at having humiliated herself in front of not only the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen in person, but an auditorium full of people as well, she (carefully) hurried off the stage and back to the anonymous sea of identical caps and gowns. Willing the floor to open up and swallow her whole, she spent the rest of the ceremony staring at the space between her feet, counting the remaining minutes until she could escape, and trying to stop the endless replay loop of the moment in her head.

Christian scanned the crowd to catch sight of the girl, but to no avail. He spent the remainder of the ceremony picturing her in the submissive position in front of him, hands on knees, legs spread, hair in a braid like his other subs. By the end of the graduation ceremony, he had an intense scene planned in his head that he couldn't wait to enact with the new submissive that would be waiting for him upon his return home.

Final speeches, mortarboards thrown in the air, and the ceremonies were over. Christian filed out with the other event dignitaries, Ana ignored the snickers and sideways glances, returned her convocation gown, and met up with her father and Kate's family.

After enduring playful ribbing from Kate and her brother during photos and drinks after the ceremony, ("Walk much, Steele?" and "You didn't have to throw yourself at him. I hear he's gay.") Ana enjoyed a celebratory dinner with Ray, then headed home and crawled into bed. She had a shift at Clayton's the next day, and a summer of job-hunting ahead of her.

Christian returned to Seattle, relieved to be done with yet another social obligation. After a marathon weekend of mindless fucking and BDSM, he went back to his mergers and acquisitions, running his empire in the same precise, calculated way he always had. Order, control, power, money, sex. Everything he desired was at his fingertips. He wanted for nothing.

* * *

_A few weeks after graduation..._

Christian always had difficulty sleeping. Tonight was no exception. The difference, however, was in the dream that preceded tonight's insomnia. Instead of his usual nightmare of his mother's pimp, he dreamed of a young woman with brown hair, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. She bit her lip, and looked at him defiantly, not from a submissive pose, but standing instead, hands on her hips. She reached out to him, and took his hand. As they connected, the spark and ripple that ensued jolted him awake. She wasn't his current sub, or any of the previous subs he'd been with. They all had brown hair and blue eyes, so he supposed she could have been a composite of several of them. She seemed familiar, and yet he couldn't place her. The details of this dream were hazy and rapidly fading, but the most remarkable thing was the absence of the usual terror and pain that filled his dreams. In stark contrast, tonight's dream had been serene and pleasant. He felt inexplicably calm in the presence of this woman. Happy, even, something he honestly hadn't truly experienced for quite some time, if ever. Christian ran his fingers through his hair. Trying to get a firm hold of the details was like trying to clutch a fist full of jelly. His stomach fluttered at the thought of it, yet he couldn't pin down the evaporating tendrils of the dream to know exactly what had him feeling this way or why. He lay awake for hours, unable to fall back to sleep.

In her Vancouver apartment, Ana finally drifted off after lying awake for several hours. A restful night eluded her, but at last her mind drifted and succumbed to dream-filled slumber. In her dream, a tall, well built, copper-haired figure stood smirking in front of her. He radiated a raw, masculine energy. He was powerful and domineering, and she felt immediately and irresistibly drawn to him. Reaching out, he gently stroked at her lower lip with his thumb. Not a word was uttered, but his eyes spoke volumes. Though he remained silent, she felt his reverence and his desire for her in that simple gesture and smoldering gaze. She was frozen to the spot. Not that she would have run, but she felt powerless to do anything but submit to him. Taking her hands and guiding her backwards until she was against a wall, he pinned them above her head and pressed the length of his muscled body against her. His smell and warmth filled her senses. Taut muscles held her firmly in place. She could practically feel his stubble on her skin as he held her, his face nuzzling her neck. The urge to be kissed by him overwhelmed her. The air felt heavy with lust and desire. Her pulse thundered in her ear as his face moved to hers. His breath felt warm on her lips as his mouth hovered, just out of reach. Closer he inched, and she trembled, aching for contact, then she startled awake at the sound of her alarm clock, the lingering feel of his body on hers slipping away rapidly.

"Fuck," she breathed, cursing the annoyingly cheery morning show DJs blasting from the radio. She gave the 'off' button a sharp smack, replaying the details in her mind, trying to retain some semblance of narrative. Who was he? Where were they? How did they end up like that, and how would it have continued had they not been interrupted? She was tempted to re-set her alarm and fall back to sleep again, but she knew she was not likely to finish the same dream, and would probably end up late for her shift. Wouldn't it be nice to be adored and lusted after by someone like that? That certainly seemed the stuff of dreams. Ordinarily she didn't mind being alone. The men that usually courted her she always found lacking in some way; romance was missing in her life. No tall, dark, handsome strangers falling at her feet, or pinning her to walls and having their way with her. Icky Paul Clayton flirting shamelessly, and Jose getting handsy after a few drinks, but no dream man setting her blood on fire.

Perhaps the dream was a premonition of things to come. She had a blind date lined up for the weekend; Kate had set her up with a friend of a friend. Brian, the law student from Portland, would be taking her out to dinner and a movie. Maybe her dream was about to come true.

* * *

_Several months after that..._

Brian and Ana got along famously on their first date. The conversation flowed comfortably and they had a lot of fun together. It wasn't hard to like him. He had an athletic build and an irresistible dimple when he smiled.

He courted her for three weeks before they slept together for the first time, at his apartment after dinner and a movie. Sex was uncomfortable and awkward at first, but Ana began to enjoy it enough. Life took on a pleasant rhythm. Work, date nights, occasional trips along the Oregon coast or north through Washington to Montesano to visit her father, and Seattle to meet up with Kate, who had moved there to pursue a career in journalism. Driving to La Conner for the spring Tulip Festival, they began to talk about taking their relationship to the next level.

"We could try the long distance thing," Ana proposed. "Seattle has more opportunities for publishing, and Kate's offered me a room at her place. It's really not that far. We could see each other on weekends."

"No," Brian shook his head. "I'd like you to stay here with me. I can see getting serious with you. Settling down, you know?"

"But in Portland? You couldn't come to Seattle?"

"Everything I've been working for is here, Ana. Why don't you move in with me here? Let me get established first, and maybe then we could move up to Seattle if we don't want to settle down here permanently."

It made sense. She could find work in Portland. There were a few publishers based out of Seattle that she was hoping to intern for, but there would be opportunities for her in Portland. After some heavy decision-making, Ana had opted to remain in the area to move in with Brian, choosing to get more serious with him over pursuing work in Seattle. She found a job at a local bookstore. Not quite the career in publishing as she'd hoped, but it was something, and close enough for now.

Randomly, she would dream, not of her boyfriend, but of the other man who'd appeared in her dream several months ago. His face was obscured at times, but she knew it was him. The grey-eyed stranger. It was odd to have the dreams, but pleasant. It almost felt like a romantic TV show, starring her and this man. The "episodes" of this nocturnal entertainment varied. At times it was simple and mundane. Sitting and talking on big white couches in a vast room, watching him play piano, laughing and drinking champagne out of teacups in her old Portland apartment. On other nights, she dreamed of more elaborate things – soaring in the clouds, or dancing at a lavish gala. Her dreams resembled a courtship. With each dream she felt she came to know him a little better. They even fought from time to time. Arguments and tiffs where they went head to head for not seeing eye to eye on some issue. She'd wake in a foul mood on these nights, but would find the issues resolved lovingly in subsequent dreams.

As odd as she found them, she wasn't complaining. Besides, she'd also been known to have dreams about flying cows and opening her cupboards to find nothing but piles of apple fritters inside. She certainly wasn't going to complain or question dreams of romance, even if they were with a man other than her boyfriend. They were harmless entertainment. Perhaps one day she could even cobble the scenes together to write a romance novel.

On this particular evening, she dreamed of the tulip fields she and Brian had visited earlier that day. Row after row of vibrant blossoms rippled in the breeze. The flowers brushed against her calves. Next to her stood the man. He drew her in for a kiss, her heart thundering. The joy in her heart was immense. It seemed incongruous to the simplicity of the situation and their surroundings, but in her dream she knew the feeling was because of him.

"Why?" Ana finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me? Why... any of this? Why do I keep dreaming of you?"

He smiled, bent down, and picked two blossoms, one red and one yellow, and handed them to her, pressing them very deliberately into her palm.

"I don't understand –" she began. He gripped her hands around the tulip stems, gazing at her intently. She opened her mouth to ask again, but her eyes snapped open in the darkness before she was able to utter another word. Brian snored softly beside her. She lay awake for hours pondering this latest dream.

Christian couldn't sleep. It had been a particularly frustrating day. He was between subs, and had no way to let off steam. Taylor had fallen ill, and one of the other security team members – correction – a former member of his security team, became hopelessly lost driving him back home after talks with people in the Skagit Valley College environmental sustainable agriculture program. Stuck behind slow moving tourists, Christian stewed in the stop-and-go progress they were making back toward Seattle.

"What the fuck is the hold-up?" he barked.

"Tulip festival, sir. This is usually the fastest route to the highway, but I'd forgotten – "

"Tulips? Fucking tulips?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck. Just get me home."

When he finally fell into an exhausted sleep, she was there. Over the last few months he'd dreamed of her, his blue-eyed stranger. Each dream was different. Again, anything other than the crack whore or pimp nightmares was a welcome relief, but these visions were more than a reprieve from his nightmares. They became something he hoped for and looked forward to. No matter how hard he tried to dictate them, or control when he had them, they seemed to occur randomly. The simple scenarios were comforting – preparing dinner (odd, seeing as he'd never cooked a meal for himself in his adult life),having a picnic lunch on the floor of his office, spooning on the couch in his library watching TV. There were more elaborate circumstances too. He took her gliding above the clouds, sailing aboard his boat, and flying in Charlie Tango. One dream found them sitting around the dinner table with his entire family at his parent's place. These were situations he'd never experienced with another woman before, yet it felt very right in his dreams, not out of place at all. Just being in her presence was pleasure enough; seeing her in aspects of his world had been all the sweeter.

In tonight's dream, he was greeted by her in a plum colored dress, the space behind her filled beyond his sight with tulips.

"La Conner," she said.

"Is that where we are?"

"Yes. They have a tulip festival every spring. Beautiful, isn't it?"

Christian shook his head and smiled. "Damn tulips. You're far more beautiful than this entire field of flowers."

She smirked. "Did you fire your driver over tulips?"

"I might have."

She shook her head. "Christian. Be nice. It was an honest mistake."

He couldn't help but smile.

"Hire him back."

"But –"

"Christian. You should be nicer to the people around you."

"What if I don't?"

She turned to leave.

"Wait. Don't go. Fine."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Did you just – "

She laughed. That was not something he was used to, but he could forgive her for it.

Perhaps tulips weren't so bad.

This was nice.

He woke with a smile still on his lips.

* * *

_Two years later..._

It was him. Again. He was as familiar to her now as her own husband. There were differences between the two men. Brian had been sweet early on, but things had quickly cooled to a dull tedium after they married. The man in her dreams seemed more intense and powerfully erotic. In spite of this, he was also tender and loving.

Every now and then, she'd have a sex dream about the man. These dreams were unusually kinky. Her sex life with Brian had always been pleasant, but tame. Since their wedding, the frequency of their lovemaking took a steady decline as they both became embroiled in the monotonous drudgery of everyday life. Brian's workload at the firm doubled after he became an associate. As her real life became duller, her dream life became more bizarre and erotic. She had no idea where the things happening to her in her dream were coming from. Was she harboring an inner slut? A wanton side buried deep in her subconscious? She did research on the things she'd dreamed about – cuffs, racks, leather whips, and riding crops. Brian would freak out if he saw half the things she stumbled upon while doing her research. _BDSM_. The imagery terrified her, yet at the same time made her oddly aroused.

The dream that woke her that night was different than the others. Her hair was braided. It was often braided in her dreams of him. She was naked, on a bed. The sheets felt smooth beneath her. She could hear classical music. A tune she was not familiar with – perhaps she'd heard it in the background somewhere? She felt paralysed; bound at the wrists and ankles. She could see nothing, however, and trembled in anticipation. The sensations washed over her. Stroking fingers caressing her, massaging her, then – ah! A sharp, sweet sting of something striking her skin. And another. Threads – no – ropes? Whips? Something raining steady, delicious blows on her sensitive flesh. On her stomach, her arms, shoulders, her nipples, her thighs, and the junction between them. She felt the wetness pooling, awash in the sensations, the music in her ears building. Then, when she felt she could not possibly take any more – Oh! His hardness filling her in one thrust. He was over her, inside her, rolling and pounding at her enflamed core. As the music reached its crescendo, she peaked, her climax white hot and explosive. His finish accompanied hers, and she felt him strain and tense against her in mutual ecstasy, flooding her with his release. She felt warm kisses against her forehead, and a fumbling as her blindfold was removed. Grey eyes were the last thing she saw before waking.

Sometimes, feeling aroused after waking from these types of dreams, she'd wake Brian for a sleepy middle-of-the-night round of lovemaking. If it was a weekend, he'd happily oblige, but she didn't want to disturb him on weeknights, knowing he needed to wake early for work the next morning. She ran her fingers over her heated skin, her heartbeat gradually returning to its usual pace. Would Brian ever go for something like that? Would she ever experience the same level of passion with her husband? Sex was good, but never as explosive as in her dreams. Was something like that even possible?

Christian experienced sex dreams as well. Between subs, he had the sexual dreams more often. Rounds of kickboxing, ten mile runs, and cold showers did nothing to sate his libido. Masturbation never seemed to satisfy him either.

Once again, the dreams were unusual. He'd been involved with BDSM for years. All of his sexual encounters were in a BDSM context, he'd known nothing else since falling under Elena Lincoln's tutelage at the tender age of fifteen. And yet he found himself dreaming of Her, his dream girl, in circumstances he'd never experienced with a girl before. They were in his bed, naked, limbs intertwined beneath the sheets while making love slowly and leisurely. Her fingers entwined in his hair, she moaned softly in his ear as he sank into her warm, velvety depths again and again. Every one of his senses was saturated with her. Together they moved as one, their pleasure building. He could hear her and feel her near her climax beneath him. The feel of being inside her was exquisite. Tight and wet, he felt her muscles clench as her ecstatic cries pitched higher and faster. He let go – sweet abandon as his release synced with hers. He exploded and collapsed hearing her crying out his name. He woke suddenly, unsure if he himself had cried out loud or only in his dream. The pulse thundered in his ear, and he realized he'd come all over his sheets.

A wet dream. _What am I, a fucking teenager again?_

As he wiped himself, he mused that he'd never had vanilla sex before, but that was precisely what his dream was. Where the hell did that come from? He'd never desired anything like that before in his life, but found it an incredible experience. Was something like that even possible for him?

* * *

_Several months after that..._

At times she felt the odd person out in her marriage. He ran hot and cold, and she found it difficult to please him lately. Their relationship had changed somewhere along the way. She was lonely, and had been for quite some time. Their arguments and fighting occurred much more frequently after the first few honeymoon months passed and complacency kicked in.

"Do you still love me?" she had asked one night, feeling particularly insecure. He'd spent more time away from home, some nights not coming home at all.

"I don't know any more," had been his reply. His answer wounded her, but she knew her feelings for him were waning as well.

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"No." He shook his head. "I just... I don't know anymore. Maybe we rushed into this. Maybe we shouldn't have even gotten married."

She tried to keep their marriage together. She suggested counselling. Made every effort to talk to him, to find out what he needed, to be the perfect wife to keep him interested, but he slipped further and further away the more involved he became with work and the life he built without her. They never talked. They felt more like roommates than spouses. She wasn't sure if he even liked her anymore. Somehow, things had slipped and degraded to this point. Their marriage was dying, and she felt hopeless to revive it.

It was on the lonely nights that she felt some solace in her dreams. Her reality was dismal, but she found some shred of happiness when she dreamed of Him. In her little fantasy world, though she had no control over what she would see or experience, she was happy. In her dreams she had a love that blossomed and flourished. Without anything like this in her real life any longer, this was the scrap she clung to, the one piece of happiness to keep her afloat. It wasn't much, but it was something at least, and on some of her darkest days, it was the only thought that provided her something to get through the day.

Ana woke from another vivid dream. In it, her hands were bound, choppy surf crashing around her. Panic set in as she stood immobile, knowing the turbulent waters would soon engulf her and she would be powerless to do anything but drown and be swept away. Arms, strong and powerful, wrapped themselves around her. The sound of the pounding waves gave way to a steady heartbeat from the chest she found herself pressed against. She was surrounded by daylight, and instead of the violent ocean storm, she was now in a pool of still water, enfolded in her lover's arms. His presence on this occasion calmed her. Anchored her. Her hands were no longer bound by knotted ropes, but held fast in his. His deep grey eyes fixed on hers.

"I love you," he said, and drew her once again into an embrace.

"I know," she replied. "I love you too." There was no doubt in her feelings for him. She knew from the very first dream. It had been unspoken, but was unmistakeable. She woke, then, the memory of being enveloped in his arms fading, the smell and feel of him, receding into the night. The sound of the rain drumming against the windows tapped a syncopated cadence, punctuating the silence of the pre-dawn hours. She drew the blanket tighter around her, the emptiness of her bed a jarring contrast to the warmth and comfort of her dream. She had never felt so alone. Silently cursing her situation, she wished she could feel as secure and as loved by Brian, or anyone for that matter, as she felt with the man in her dreams.

Christian gazed out the window running his thumb absently along the rim of his tumbler of Scotch. He'd sent tonight's sub home early, terminating her contract after just two weeks together – a new record. Lately he found fault easily with every sub he'd contracted. Nothing could compare to the way the woman in his dreams made him feel. The scenes he'd devised with his subs felt hollow and emotionless despite the increasingly complex and brutal positions and punishments he'd created. More intensity conversely did less and less for him.

"Lexie is one of the most sought after subs on the West Coast, Christian. Give her another chance." Elena had chided over their lunch meeting earlier that day.

"I don't care if she's the best goddamn sub in the whole northern hemisphere. We're not clicking. I can't make it happen if the connection isn't there."

"You've been doing the same 'brown hair, blue eyes' thing for years. Honestly, I think you're getting bored."

"No, the subs you've been finding me have not been up to snuff."

"I've found you the best of the best, darling," she sniffed indignantly. "You need to branch out and try something new. Get out of this rut you've been in. Perhaps I could set you up in a threesome? With blondes this time? Or you could come to the next gathering in a few weeks. You've not participated in one of those for some time. I think you'd enjoy yourself."

Christian shook his head. "Not interested."

Elena merely clucked her tongue. "You're even more stubborn than usual. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, Christian."

Neither did Christian. He felt nothing for any of the subs. Ever. The latest were certainly no exceptions. They were merely warm vessels. Tools for his depravity. Could he possibly feel the way he felt in his dreams with anyone in real life? The loneliness wound itself into an uncomfortable knot in his chest.

_How pathetic._ He mused to himself. What was happening to him? He'd always believed love was for fools, and couldn't care less about seeking it out. He didn't believe it actually existed – not for him anyway, and he functioned perfectly without it.

Well, perhaps not so perfectly after all. Closing his eyes and allowing his mind to drift and revel in the fantasies spun from his dreams, he lamented the hole he felt in his life. He fell asleep where he sat and found himself dreaming again.

He was falling. Plummeting towards earth. Panicked, he flailed and looked around for something, anything that could save him. A hand gripped his. He turned, and locked his sights on the steely blue gaze. The feeling of free-fall stopped. In an instant they were on solid ground, safe. He laughed, relieved. Catching her in an embrace, he spun her about, then stopped, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She kissed him back, her slender arms wrapped around him. He held her for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against his.

"I've missed you," he said into her hair. She looked up at him lovingly, and planted a gentle kiss on the upturned corners of his mouth. Tenderly stroking his face, she rained more kisses on his forehead and closed eyelids. Trailing her fingers along his neck, she deftly unbuttoned his collar, and slid her hands over his pectorals. Christian tensed, but the searing jolt did not come. No one could touch him there. Not even his mother. He never gave anyone the opportunity to get that close, he used his dominance to make that a hard limit in all of his BDSM relationships. There had been no one who could touch him without triggering severe waves of anxiety and psychosomatic pain. Here in his dreams, however, with her, he felt trust for the first time. He slid his hand into the thick hair at the nape of her neck, and cupping the back of her head, he drew her close.

"I love you so much," he murmured. He didn't even question it. The words came with no hesitation. "You are mine."

"I know," she murmured back. "I love you too." He drew her close to resume kissing her.

The sound of his phone ringing jarred him awake. _No! Goddamnit! _

His glass of scotch lay upturned at his feet, the amber liquid pool soaked into the carpet. It had stopped raining, and the sunlight streaming in through the window of the living room confounded him. How long had he been asleep? The feel of her warmth against his shoulder and her hands pressed to his chest lingered. He could practically smell her hair and taste her kiss on his lips.

He recalled reading somewhere once that you only dream about people you've encountered at some point. Your brain doesn't make up faces. So who was she? Where had he met her? Was she an amalgamation of all of the other blue-eyed brunettes he'd ever been with? Was it one of his subs that he'd pushed away when they wanted more? No. He was positive he'd not felt the same desire for any of them. She must be out there, somewhere. But if he ever found her, would what he felt for her in his dreams translate to reality? He rubbed at the back of his neck, stiff from the awkward position in which he'd fallen asleep. Perhaps the dream was the best he'd get. He couldn't fathom ever feeling that way for someone. He would have to be content with that aspect of his life being fulfilled in dreams only. It was something, at least.

* * *

_A few months later..._

It was official. She was a divorcee. The end of her marriage came with stunning efficiency. Their relationship had dissolved into nothing. Brian moved on, and the last she'd heard he was seeing another lawyer at his firm. He was not the same person she had met and agreed to marry. The person he had evolved into no longer needed her. Even if they weren't right for each other at the beginning, they certainly weren't by the time the marriage ended. Despite the animosity in the dying days of their relationship, she did wish him well, and hoped he found someone he would be happier with than he ultimately was with her. She was saddened by her sense of failure, and saddled with loneliness.

Since the divorce, her dreams started to take on a new recurring theme. Seeming to taunt her loveless reality, she had dreams of getting married to her lover. It started with a proposal. She remembered a romantic setting filled with flowers and twinkling fairy lights. Each dream after that progressed through different pieces of what seemed like one very elegant, happy wedding. There were tears, laughter, loving kisses, and a very passionate wedding night.

Her dreams progressed further, and she soon found herself dreaming of being pregnant and having a baby. This hadn't been on the radar with Brian. She'd always felt too young, and the time was never right with his ongoing work building his practice. These dreams added to her discouragement. Now, she wanted a child. She wanted to experience getting to know someone that was a part of both her and the man she loved. It was a cruel craving, one that would obviously not be met any time soon.

One vivid dream really stuck out in her mind. Lying on a blanket in the middle of a meadow on a sun-dappled afternoon, she could hear rustling and giggling. Hiding below the waving tops of the grass around her, she held her breath and stifled a giggle of her own. Through the fronds charged a young, copper-haired boy. The look he gave upon seeing her melted her heart. His face, alight with joy, burst into a broad, gleeful smile as he ran to her and tackled her.

"Mommy!" he cried out with abandon. _Mommy. I'm his mommy. _Her heart ached with the love she felt immediately for the child. The adoration and reverence on his face was mirrored by the man who appeared behind him.

"Found you." He grinned and sat beside them.

"You did," she replied, then tickled the boy to hear his giggle again.

"Hey, gentle there, buddy. Careful of mommy's tummy." The man slid his hand to her abdomen, and she realized she was heavily pregnant.

The child bent down and pressed his mouth to her belly. "Sorry baby!" Then kissed it and patted it with a chubby hand.

It was all so perfect. This one moment captured everything she wanted, everything she desired but didn't have. Upon waking, she felt bereft. The dream evoked bittersweet emotions. She knew, without a doubt, that she wanted to live her dream. Brian was not the man it would happen with, and she didn't know if she would ever be able to find that in real life.

Was that realistic? Could it happen? Or had she kept the concept of love on a pedestal all this time? Had her dreams set the bar unrealistically high? Despite these concerns, even in her loneliest hour she found comfort in the scenes she'd remembered. Like passages from her favourite novels, she re-visited them, and treasured them. She didn't have the answers to her questions, but hoped this kind of love and life existed for her. Though her marriage to Brian was short-lived, she did not want to waste time again on anything but someone who made her feel this way. Brian was nice enough, but she didn't ever feel the same spark or depth of love with him.

She spent the remaining hours before needing to get up for the day, replaying the parts of the dream she could remember in her head.

Christian had agreed to try out a contract with one more sub. Once again, he felt sexually fulfilled, but still very empty. The recurring themes in his dreams of late had been centering around romance and domesticity – two things he'd shunned and abhorred for years. He'd terminated this sub's contract when, like a few others before her, she'd developed feelings for him and wanted more.

_Now's your chance, Grey! You want the hearts and flowers? She does too. Go get her._

But he couldn't. It didn't feel the same, and he couldn't lie to her and tell her he wanted more with her when he didn't. _You're a cold-hearted bastard._

Did someone like the woman in his dreams really exist? Was it truly possible for him to love someone?

In his loneliest hour, he found comfort with her. In his dreams, a room full of flowers and twinkling lights, a tuxedo and wedding gown, and a full belly, swollen with his child, felt infinitely right.

The most striking dream was one of a copper-haired child running to him with unequivocal love radiating from his tiny body. He felt nothing but love back for him. Blue eyes looked straight into his, almost as if peering into his very soul.

"Daddy," the boy said shyly.

"Uh, yeah buddy?"

"Can you help me fly today?" The boy pointed to a remote controlled helicopter sitting nearby.

"I don't see why not." He sat and the child crawled into his lap excitedly.

"Here, you press that button there." He guided his hands on the controls as they both made the model fly. Each whoop of delight made Christian chuckle. A sense of protectiveness and pride surged as he rested his cheek against the boy's head.

"I love you, daddy," the child sighed contentedly.

"I love you too, buddy." And he did. There was no question. He was overcome with the emotion of it all, and woke feeling sad that it had only been a dream. The depth of love he felt for the child surprised him, as having kids had never been on his list of life goals. He'd always gone to great lengths to ensure none of his sexual partners got pregnant. This dream changed all that.

How could he make this real when there was no one in his life he would let in? He hoped he would find that with someone one day, and that he'd recognize it for what it was before it was too late.

* * *

_A few months later..._

Change was looming. Ana dreamed of standing at a crossroad. She knew she needed to make a choice, take a leap. A publishing company in Seattle was re-structuring and looking for new entry-level editor assistants. It was the perfect opportunity for future advancement in the field she'd dreamed of. She was terrified. She'd spent the last few years in Portland and had little experience. Everything she knew was here. Prompted by her dream, she decided to take a chance, applied, interviewed, and in the end was hired. She started in a few weeks. Packing her belongings, she settled her affairs in Portland, then drove to Seattle. Kate graciously offered a room in her condo by Pike Place Market. Ana was grateful for the accommodations.

Kate, still a serial dater, tried to set her up with single guys she knew, and Ana even tried her hand at online dating, but inevitably found all the men she was paired with lacking in some way or another. None lived up to the standard set by her dreams. Once bitten, twice shy, she was wary of starting a new relationship after the failure of her last one.

Changes loomed in Christian's world as well. On a whim he purchased a floundering publishing company. Though he was inexperienced in businesses in that realm, he had a gut feeling this would be a monumental acquisition. His instincts had never steered him wrong before. He planned a meet-and-greet at the new office.

After a few weeks on the job, Ana had settled in nicely. The work was stimulating and she enjoyed the team she was on. The office seemed abuzz with news of the new owner's arrival for a meeting that day. By ten o'clock, the staff members were gathered into the board room to meet the enigmatic Christian Grey. As he stood talking at the front of the room, Ana felt her face flush and her stomach clench. His features resembled those of her dream man. She had a vague recollection of him at her graduation ceremonies, and was too distracted by his copper hair and steely grey eyes to pay attention to what he was saying.

"Damn that man is hot," the woman beside her muttered under her breath. Ana could only nod in agreement, as she shifted in her seat.

After the meeting, she returned to her desk and completed the rest of her morning's tasks. She became immersed in her work, and nearly forgot she was due for a meeting at human resources to complete her thirty day evaluation and sign a few documents. Checking the clock, she realized she'd have to hurry as she was already late, and moved as fast as she could in heels. She almost made it to the elevator when, in her innate clumsiness, her heel caught on a nub of carpet and she went hurtling towards the ground.

Christian spotted a woman running and tripping as he headed towards the elevators after wrapping up his visit to the new publishing company. With cat-like reflexes, he dove and caught her as she pitched forward awkwardly. Looking up at him, he was struck with a bizarre sense of déjà vu. Tussled chestnut tresses cascaded over her shoulders and she looked up at him between wisps of hair that had fallen over her bright blue eyes.

Ana stared at Christian, her heart in her throat. _Holy shit, it's him! _

_Holy shit, it's her!_

A blush crept over her features. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm in a rush, and horribly clumsy. The perfect storm."

"I can see that!" He chuckled, helping her up. They stood and stared at each other for a moment, wordlessly taking in each other's features. Ana looked over and, embarrassed, realized she'd not even pressed the call button for the elevator yet.

"Are you going down?" she squeaked. _Oh god that sounded dirty._

He cleared his throat. "I am. I'll ride you... ride WITH you.."_Oh, real smooth, ya perv._

She nodded, and straightened her skirt.

"I'm sorry, forgive me for staring, but... you look very familiar." His grey eyes focused intensely on her.

"You spoke at my college graduation. I was the one that fell on you while you were giving out our diplomas."

_Ding_. The chime signaled the elevator's arrival, and Christian's face lit up with recognition.

"Yes! That was you!" He laughed. He found her. "I'm so sorry, I don't recall your name."

"Anastasia Steele." They shook hands.

"Anastasia. A pleasure."

"Please, everyone calls me Ana."

"Ana." He smiled. "We really must stop meeting like this."

"Oh believe me, I'd prefer if I'd met you in a much less embarrassing way too."

They stepped into the elevator. "What floor?"

"HR. It's on seven, I think."

Christian pressed the button, and the doors closed. The air practically crackled between them. Ana was certain he could hear the thundering of her heart in such a confined space. Christian could barely breathe, the desire to reach out and touch her was overwhelming. As the elevator neared the seventh floor, he knew he couldn't let her walk away now. The electricity between them was unmistakeable, and quite unlike anything he'd ever felt for anyone before. The doors slid open, and Ana moved to get out.

"Wait." Christian held her arm for a moment and drew her back towards him. "Excuse us." He said to the people waiting to enter the elevator car from the seventh floor as he pressed the 'door close' button, the doors sliding shut again past their shocked faces. He pressed the top floor button and turned back to Ana.

"I... But..."Ana spluttered, shocked.

"I'm sorry. I don't usually do anything like this." He spun to face her, and noticed she was trembling, her skin was flushed, and she was looking at him with the same attraction he felt for her.

"But HR..." she stammered in a hoarse whisper. "I'm late. I have paperwork..."

He couldn't restrain himself any longer. "Oh, fuck the paperwork," he murmured and pressed her back towards the wall of the elevator. Holding her hands above her head, he pressed his mouth to hers, no longer able to resist the urge to kiss her. Explosions went off inside his head. This was it. The feeling he'd sought out. He was lost in the smell of her hair and the feeling of her pinned beneath him.

Ana returned his kiss with equal fervour. She was shocked and could not believe this was happening. She could not resist the feeling of him pressed against her, and swooned at the feel of his warm mouth and exploring tongue moving against hers.

The elevator's soft _ding_ signalled them nearing the top floor of the building, and reluctantly Christian pulled apart from her. Their chests heaving, he smoothed a wisp of hair behind her ear, and cupping her face, he wiped at her smeared gloss on her lower lip with his thumb. He took a step away as the doors opened. With no one waiting to enter, they waited wordlessly for the doors to slide shut again, and Christian pressed the 7 button to return Ana to the HR department.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what came over me. But I couldn't resist."

"It's okay." They locked eyes.

"Ana. Would you..." he took a breath. "Can I see you again? Dinner? Tonight?"

His eyes searched her face, silently pleading. This was very new for him. He felt as though he were flying blind, taking a leap of faith.

Ana, too, paused. Should she take the leap? Trust her heart? Try again? The spark that ignited between her and Christian was incendiary. She found herself consumed, instantly. She'd never felt anything like it before. Swallowing, she nodded. "Yes. I'd love to."

Christian smiled. "Wonderful. I'll come by and pick you up after work."

When the doors opened at the seventh floor, Ana reluctantly stepped out. Not wanting her out of his sight, Christian followed her.

"See you later, Anastasia."

"See you, Christian."

Forcing herself to move, Ana turned and ran to keep her appointment. Christian watched her until she was out of sight, almost wishing she'd stumble so he could hold her again, but no, she made it safely to the HR office.

Now he'd be counting the minutes until she got off work.

Maybe, just maybe, dreams really do come true.

* * *

**A/N – Many, many thanks to Ordlas, my beta reader for this story, especially for your help with the title and ending. Also to Kerry, Megan, and CJ for being the initial sounding boards for my idea. :)**


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